


all the pain of yesterday: mourning

by Spikedluv



Series: all the pain of yesterday [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: From my fic, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: Chris deals with the results of the hunter’s inquiry.





	all the pain of yesterday: mourning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a missing scene from the epilogue of my fic [all the pain of yesterday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522459). 
> 
> Written for the _grief/mourning_ prompt at [Chris Argent Appreciation Week on Tumblr](https://chrisargentappreciationweek.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Written: August 12, 2018

Chris was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the key turn in the front door. Allison was already home – upstairs in her room doing homework or talking to Lydia – and only one other person had a key. Chris waited for the door to close and a moment longer to give Peter time to reach the living room doorway.

“Hey,” Chris said, turning so he could see Peter over his shoulder. He hoped he looked and sounded normal. “What are you doing here? I thought you had girls’ night.”

“Allison called,” Peter said, making Chris’ attempts to hide his emotions unnecessary and futile. “Said you might need some company tonight.”

“I’m fine,” Chris said, lying reflexively. “She shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“I can see that you’re fine,” Peter said, taking in the empty glass in Chris’ hand and the half-full bottle on the coffee table. “And you’re never a bother.”

“Hmm,” Chris harrumphed. “You don’t need to sweet talk me, either.”

“May I at least join you on the couch?”

Chris made a gesture with his head that could be taken as a positive response if one was so inclined. Peter was. He sat close enough to Chris that their shoulders and legs touched.

Chris’ eyes prickled. “It’s so stupid.”

“What is?”

“To be upset about this,” Chris said. “They brought it on themselves. And I know they deserve it. Hell, I turned them in myself.”

“It’s not stupid.” Peter raised his arm and laid it across Chris’ shoulders. “They might be murdering sociopaths, but they’re still your family.”

Chris huffed a humorless laugh. “It’s not even that.” He turned the glass in his hand, taking a moment to steady himself. “They were dead to me the moment they decided to kill your family, I just didn’t know it yet. It’s just . . .”

Chris paused, took a breath, and Peter waited in patient silence for Chris to collect himself and continue.

“It’s the ‘what might have been’s and the ‘remember when’s. When Kate . . .” Chris broke off and shook his head. “You don’t want to hear this.”

“I want to hear whatever you need to say,” Peter said.

Chris weighed Peter’s words before continuing. “Kate was the most adorable baby I’d ever seen,” he said. “What did I know about babies? But I thought she was adorable. And until she was twelve-years old she thought the sun shone out of my ass, too.”

Peter reached over and took the hand not holding the glass. Chris clutched it like a life line.

“When she was little Kate wanted a pet. A puppy, or a kitten, she didn’t care. Gerard wouldn’t allow it. So she collected wildlife. She fed the squirrels until they’d eat out of her hand and crawl into her lap. She found a bird with a broken wing and tried to fix it.”

Chris recalled the stories he’d read to Kate while she snuggled in his lap, holding her when she cried because Gerard wouldn’t let her attend a sleep over, giving her the first cookie off the sheet.

“She had so much love in her heart back then, I don’t know how Gerard managed to fill her with hate until that’s all that was left.”

Peter didn’t speak, just tightened his arm around Chris’ shoulders and laid his forehead against the side of Chris’ head.

“I can’t help thinking,” Chris said. “Maybe if I’d stayed . . .”

“No,” Peter said firmly. “I’m not questioning your heart,” he clarified when Chris stiffened. “But you know that Gerard would never have let you ‘taint’ Kate with your beliefs.”

Chris huffed. “Who am I kidding? I couldn’t even extricate _myself_ from Gerard’s . . . influence.”

“You did that, stayed, to protect me,” Peter pointed out.

Chris shook his head. “Maybe I’m just a coward.”

“That’s the last thing you are,” Peter said, his voice going a little loud. “Maybe you should give eighteen-year old you a break. I’m trying to.”

Chris’ laugh was half-sob. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try.”

“Good,” Peter said.

“I hate what they did.”

“I know.”

“Hey,” Allison said, her voice low and thick with emotion. “Can I come in?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Chris said. He leaned forward and set the glass on the coffee table, then held out his arm.

Allison rushed over and curled up next to Chris. He put his arm around her and drew her into his side. Allison rested her head on his shoulder, and Chris could feel Peter’s fingers in Allison’s hair.

“What they did was awful,” Allison said.

Chris squeezed Allison. “I know.”

“It still hurts.”

“Yeah, it does.”

Chris hated himself a little bit for wasting this much emotion on Kate and Gerard, but they were his family. With the two of them out of their lives for good, Allison was the only family Chris had left.

Peter pressed a kiss to Chris’ temple reminding him that wasn’t true. He had Peter, and Melissa, and John. Derek, and Stiles, and Scott. He had more and better family here than Gerard had ever been.

“You didn’t have to call Peter,” Chris said against Allison’s head. “But thank you.”

Allison sniffled. “You’re welcome.”

Chris squeezed Peter’s hand and relaxed back into the couch, into the arm thrown over his shoulders. Giving and receiving comfort. This was love. This was the family he’d chosen.

The End


End file.
